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inkskinned · 10 months

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you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

#writeblr #warm up #my dad was actively doing bad shit to us and we STILL were told we were lucky . and to a point i do think im lucky #i just think also there's somethin to be said about like. how about we stop using comparison to dismiss ppls individual struggles #yes there are people who have no perspective. for the reference tho having perspective actually made me really unwilling to get help #for what was a serious and debilitating mental health issue. bc i thought i didnt DESERVE IT #and i would rather have 600 ppl who aren't THAT bad get help and get heard and get seen #than make any 1 kid. do the math that i did: look at the world that is dying and the people who are hurting and say #''oh. okay. others have it worse. they are probably better people than i am. i am being unreasonable. i cannot ask for help #i am not good. i am taking too much space. i am not worth saving.''#bc our WHOLE lives we are taught a scarcity mindset - that you can 'steal' from someone. so that instead of changing a system that doesn't #actually offer fair support to everyone #we put the impetus on the individual to just... demand less.#and here's something - there are probably ppl who think i DIDNT deserve to get help #bc i DID have it better than other people #and something about that is ... so sickening. bc i think all of us in some way at some point WILL need help.#we were supposed to make communities. we were supposed to offer our hands. we were supposed to raise the barn #instead we said: it could be worse. now handle it yourself

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uncanny-tranny · 8 months

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I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

#mental health #mental health advocacy #like... anxiety and depression are often concieved of as simple and easy to manage...#...but that isn't the case for so many of us. anxiety and depression just have a lot more research invested into them...#...and while i wish this were the case for literally every other condition it does alter people's perception of you to some extent...#...so while this is NOT solely about anxiety or depression it includes us...#...my anxiety and depression and PTSD have *destroyed* my life. this is chronic and will probably be life-long...#...and that isn't my fault. i've done the fucking work but guess what? that doesn't account for the fact that I Am Just ILL #the least we can do for each other is to be compassionate #be compassionate to those who cannot heal. be compassionate to the people who can't manage their lives. this world is scary enough #recognize that management of symptoms is something not all of us can do - even IF their condition is labeled as 'easy to manage'#i allowed myself to feel angry that i can't heal 'normally' and that was unfair as fuck toward myself #and i NEED people to internalize this so that MAYBE this could help somebody else who is where i was #i NEED them to understand that it's okay that they are where they are - sometimes shit just doesn't turn out how you expect or want #don't beat yourself over you being a person. you are struggling enough. you deserve to rest. just rest please #and just... give yourself space

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verahella · 22 days

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yoyo! please can i request jjk men reaction to yn always sleeping hugging a pillow(because it’s comfy lol) 🙈. thankyou! :)

kissing you rn nonnie i too cannot go to sleep without hugging a pillow <3

ᡣ𐭩 SLEEP TIGHT !

✎ feat. g. satoru, n. kento, r. sukuna

ᡣ𐭩 GOJO SATORU

honestly, if you hug or show affection to anything that isn't him in a five metre radius of his presence, it's your fault.

you palm around the cold sheets, squinting an eye open when nothing soft meets your hand. you could've sworn it was right there a second ag—

"oh god—what are you doing, satoru?"

gojo huffs, unaware that the luminous spheres of blue he calls eyes look like they're about to devour you in the dark, "i should be the one asking you that." he crosses his arms, glaring at you. "is this who you fuck when i'm not in the city?" his hand vigorously shakes the pillow that was in your arms a few moments ago.

your heartbeat is still recovering from the jumpscare when you sigh, running a hand over your face. "kind of, yeah. when you're out on missions, this makes me feel like you're here. helps me sleep better."

his eyes soften and the curves of his lips are threatening to burst into a smile but he huffs again, looking away. "i guess i can excuse it. but now that i'm here, you don't need it."

"...it's also a way better cuddler."

"what?!

(cue to you repenting on your words while gojo smothers you to show how good of a cuddler he is. please, 'toru it's summer.)

ᡣ𐭩 NANAMI KENTO

it's only when nanami takes a quiet breath in that he notices the absence of your comments.

soft words come to a pause as he glances down at his lap, where you lay. light streams in through the window, kissing your relaxed face, eyes shut in content while a river of drool runs from your mouth.

your grip tightens on the pillow that's lucky enough to be snuggled close to your chest and the dimples on kento's cheeks make a faint appearance.

even though he's in risk of being replaced by a mere pillow, nanami always found it adorable that you hugged something to bed. he remembers the first time you slept together, you bashfully explained to him that it was a childhood trait of yours that continued through your later years.

(he didn't mind; it's a feeling that provides protection and comfort. an anchor that grounds you when you're most vulnerable.)

he also remembers that he offered to take the position of your pillow, to which you had stuttered an eager 'yes.’

nanami sets down the book with a bookmark, guessing the page where you nodded off. he gently lifts your head off his lap, moving just enough to get a blanket.

he places a kiss on your forehead and warmth fills his chest when you smile in your sleep, "sweet dreams, love."

(your dreams consist of a hazy blond with a precious smile but nanami doesn't know need to know that when he sees you blushing in the morning.)

ᡣ𐭩 RYOMEN SUKUNA

sukuna would rather eat his own shoe than admit it, but he's the clingy one in the relationship. especially in the mornings.

the moment sunlight peeks through the curtains and his soul regains the slightest bit of consciousness, his body is searching for yours, magnetic. your soft snores fill the room and his heavy arm slings over your body, ready to pull you into him—until it meets something soft.

"the fuck?" his voice is groggy from sleep but he rips the pillow from your grasp with ease. sukuna stares at it with barely concealed disgust before he flings it to the other side of the room. he huffs, moving to rest on top of you. you deserve suffocation.

...sukuna's gaze moves to the limp pillow on the floor and his eyes narrow. a bit of careful shuffling and a pair of scissors. sukuna comes back to bed after a few moments, crawling back on top of you with a hum of satisfaction. that's better.

(in the morning, you frown, checking under the bed. "hey sukuna, have you seen my pillow? the big, comfy one i bought yesterday."

"no."

“…hey, what's that fluff falling from the trash can—")

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #i’m not sorry for the amount of em dashes i use #but i am sorry for how shit sukuna’s turned out #vera’s.jjk.library.✎

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 25 days

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Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.

#in stars and time #ISAT #Siffrin #Loop #Context: early on you meet a character who tries to get you to use the royal We pronoun for them and you shut them down. It's great.#The gender swag and non-binary rep in this game is lovely.#I sketched this out when I was in Act 2 - and as of posting this I have not yet finished the game so *please* no spoilers.#It is rare for me to get into something spoiler free and I have been getting my shit rocked by this game in the best way.#Yes I *am* taking another detour to talk about a video game I love again. I will have some fun crossovers. Trust the process.#I will also do my best to pitch this game as spoiler free as possible. Because you *should* play this game:#ISAT is a very lovingly crafted RPG with very fun and emotional writing.#The characters are great and the mysteries you slowly uncover are intriguing!#The way the gameplay ties into the player's own emotional state is nearly always in sync with the protagonist. You *will* feel things.#And it is not afraid to let those things be hard emotions! Do mind the content warnings and know your limits though.#As someone who sucks at video games I also appreciate that it is so generous with your time and keeps things fun.#Not to mention it is honestly underpriced for the amount of content in it. Buy this game. I need to spread the brainworms.

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sivsii · 2 years

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I sincerely hope every artist gets to have the experience of falling in love with their art someday. even if you have to fight for it. i think we all deserve to look at the result of our creativity all giddy and go holy shit, I loved making this! I love the lines I put down and the colors I used and the indulgences I’ve taken. I love seeing things I liked and taking it for my own, pushing and molding and playing. I can’t wait to do it again

#art stuff #maybe this is just me being all mushy or whatever but GOD #i used to hate my art so fucking much #i used to hate the act of creating so deeply that putting pen to paper knotted up my insides #and I don’t know HOW I grew through that but I did! i genuinely thought it was the end of such an important part of who I am #but it wasn’t!#and now for the last few years I’ve been consistently able to look at my art and feel proud of myself? like holy shit I made this!#i have such good taste!#and there have been times where I’ve hated the process or been dissatisfied with theresult ofc #art is fucking hard #art block and burnout is a bitch #but Ive still been able to look at the sum of my journey and just feel. satisfied. and accomplished #eager for growth but still proud of what I’ve made #idk #we all deserve that someday

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greenglowinspooks · 7 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)

—

Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.

And Danny hated it.

He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.

After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.

He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.

Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.

Right. Scarecrow.

His escape.

The chase.

His mom.

“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.

“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”

Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!

“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”

“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”

“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”

“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”

Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.

Danny sat down.

“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”

Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.

“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”

“Oh,” Danny said.

He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.

Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.

Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.

It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.

Tucker.

Amity park.

Home.

Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.

He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.

Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.

“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”

Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.

He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.

At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.

Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.

Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.

It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.

Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.

He was not about to cry.

“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”

He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.

Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.

He read the report again.

And again.

Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”

Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.

“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”

“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”

“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”

Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.

“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”

“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”

But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”

“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”

“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”

Dr. Crane sighed.

“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”

“…Why?”

“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”

Danny paused.

“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”

“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”

Danny snorted.

“You care about laws now?”

“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”

Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.

“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”

“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”

Danny nodded. He could live with that.

“Alright, then let’s get to work.”

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc fic #liminal scarecrow #scaredad scaredad scaredad #not pictured: scarecrow frantically googling to see what he can feed Danny without killing him #and also going through everything in his kitchen to find something that isn’t spoiled #he lives like a 20 year old bachelor in terms of food. just takeout and moldy bread in there #maybe a can of soup if he’s feeling adventurous #scarecrow: ah yes I am feeding him soft foods to keep my lead on the GiW alive. No sentimental reason whatsoever #danny who is about to start bawling his eyes out:#the boy had to battle resurrected food for years. he is NOT used to being fed actual edible things #danny: scarecrow could kill me at any moment. that’s why he’s feeding me and worrying about my health and safety #btw HUGE shoutout to the riddler for cramming an entire gaming pc into a 2007 microsoft computer #or some shit like that #and just giving it to scarecrow. for free. just bestie things

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